Tonight, while we were sleeping, there was a power failure. This meant that our fire alarm, which is wired into the house's electrical system, issued a few loud, angry beeps, and I awoke with my adrenaline racing. I checked the digital clocks that were plugged into the wall, and sure enough, they were flashing, indicating a power failure. It occurred to me that I would have to call "Time" to reset them all the next day.

Then I remembered my father telling me this story:

He and my uncle, were living in Saskatoon and presumably going to University, although maybe my uncle had finished at that point. My uncle was working at the telephone company, which had recently acquired this new "Time" telephone number and feature. One day, while my uncle was at work and my father was at home, Dad decided to check it out. He thought it was really cool, and proceeded to listen to it for the next eight hours - while he was watching TV, listening to the radio, doing other stuff. He was just amazed.

Meanwhile, back at the phone company, there was a problem. I'm not quite sure on the details, but I seem to recall my father telling me that apparently, because of the way the phone number was set up, or maybe it was the whole system, my father's call was blocking things, or preventing other calls from going through, through-out the entire city. The company started to look into the problem, and it was to my uncle's embarrassment that the problem was located at his house. He raced home and exploded into the place asking my father what in hell he was doing to the phone. My father, blissfully unaware of the problems he had caused, responded something like, "Oh hey! Did you know there was a number you could call to listen to the Time? This thing is great! I've been listening all day!"

"Give me that!"

I'm sure there were more words than that spoken, but that's all I can remember about the story.

Now my uncle is gone, and my dad is gone. No one will ever remember the details of that story.

Every once in a while, something rather ordinary happens, and a memory of my father will come to me, along with one of his stories. It occurred to me lately, that if I don't write them down, they will be lost forever.